


Closure

by xForEverythingElse (PrimaryScavQueen)



Series: Surrender, Dorothy [10]
Category: The Tick (TV 2017)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Character Death, F/M, Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 20:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20626730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaryScavQueen/pseuds/xForEverythingElse
Summary: It's the end of The Terror and the beginning of closure for Dot and all his victims





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect, are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Rated M for the measure of violence The Terror and Overkill use and language. It's almost the end, chums! The epilogue will wrap up this portion but there will be more stories coming. Hindsight, I should have made this into a chaptered fic instead of a series...I still may fix it one day. Anyways! Feedback is appreciated <3

_They’re coming._

The voice was that soft, guiding voice that Dot had heard the morning of the trial. She was hearing it again. There was a fair chance she was descending into madness, her mind beyond exhausted from the amount of limits The Terror had forced her to experience. Her body, however, bounced back from nearly everything. A hollow victory.

The cold floor beneath her was hard and her bones ached from being cramped in such a small space. But at least she didn’t have to look at The Terror’s face for a while. It would be nice not to look at anything for a while. Her lips were still sewn shut and they itched. She missed sweet, blissful unconsciousness.

_Don’t give up, Dorothy. Today will bring the end._

Well, the voice couldn’t be her own conscious, she never called herself by her full name. 

_Who are you?_ She thought back, deciding to embrace the madness.

_I believe your friend Tick calls me Destiny._ The voice replied.

Dot didn’t know what to think besides that was Destiny was talking to the wrong person. Light flooded the crawl space as the latch was lifted and Dot was momentarily blinded. She felt hands catch the chains that bound her arms behind her back and drag her upward, out of the hole. 

“So, I thought of a new test today.” The Terror’s voice was cheerful as his henchman dropped her heavily at his feet.

Dot cracked an eye and mustered up a glare. Disgust coiled tight in her gut when he smiled widely, his gold teeth glinting. He nodded to the masked henchmen that waited behind her. 

“You know where to take her.” 

She grunted as the person picked her up and slung her over their shoulder and made their way through the theater. It felt like an eternity and Dot lost track of just where they were. She realized there was a chance she fell asleep because the next thing she knew she was on a catwalk, high above the stage. Then the henchmen set her down for a moment and she looked through the grates, seeing The Terror watching from the center stage. 

The touch of a thick, scratchy rope dragged her attention away and she noticed that there was a noose around her throat now. _Oh. Oh shit._ Her exhaustion was strong but not strong enough to tamper down the panic that raced through her veins. Dot heard The Terror’s voice shouting orders and her body began to rise and she was helpless to stop it. A whimper built in her throat and she couldn’t stop the sound. 

The pulling stopped when she was just on her tiptoes, hovering there. She couldn’t bear to look down, instead, she let her head fall back. There was a small movement on the higher catwalk above her that caught her attention. A flash of a military green jacket. Was that? Was that Frank?

His face peeked out from the shadows and held a finger to his lips. Then she saw a silver glint and felt the rope move just so. He was cutting the rope. Relief flooded through her. Maybe she wasn’t about to plunge to her death. A female voice caught her attention and it wasn’t coming from inside her head, it was coming from below. 

Where there was Frank, his boss was there too. Lint seemed to be engaging The Terror in some sort of conversation. From above, she heard a soft “_Oh, shit._” then the sounds of a fist fight. Frank’s knife fell, whizzing by her face. _That better hit The Terror_. She thought darkly but, of course not. It just called his attention to the fact that something was happening up here. _Shit._

“THROW HER OVER THE RAIL!” The Terror’s voice bellowed up and though she tried to fight it, the henchman hoisted her over and she couldn’t do anything but fall. 

Then the rope tightened around her throat for a split second before the rope snapped and instead of it snapping her neck, she hit the wooden stage with no resistence. Pain blinded her momentarily as her hip, arm, and shoulder made gross crunching noises upon impact. 

“Dot!!” Arthur yelled, horror in his voice.

Arthur? 

She opened her eyes and saw Arthur, Tick, Steve, Overkill and Midnight on the stage in various points of attack. Arthur was holding a gun at The Terror’s face. By the looks of it, it belonged to Overkill. Steve’s shirt was open and there was a cannon sticking out of his mechanical chest. The Tick made his way to her and lifted her up off the ground as gentle as he could.

“I’ve got you, little sister.” He murmured assuringly, “Now we have to stop your brother before he goes down a dark path.”

Turned out, Tick didn’t have to say a word.

“I will not let you turn into me.” Overkill growled at her brother, “Turning to anger and ignoring hope. I won’t let you put blood on your hands.” He stepped closer to Arthur and The Terror, “Plus, I have dibs.” 

In a blink, he pulled out another gun and shot the The Terror point blank in the shoulder. The villain reeled and hit the ground, cursing.

“Christ.” Arthur muttered and handed Overkill back his gun. There was relief in his eyes as he crossed the floor over to where she and Tick were. Then tears flooded his eyes as he got closer. 

Dot wished she could comfort him but for now, she was grateful to be alive and able to watch what was coming next. Overkill drew out his swords from their sheaths and stood above The Terror for a moment, pressing the sharp tip against the other man’s throat. 

“Chum, please.” The Tick’s voice was almost too loud in her ear, “Murder isn’t the way.”

“You saw what attempts at justice were.” Overkill replied, “Justice means nothing for the likes of him. I promise you, Tick, this is the only way.”

“But—“

“Hey, friend.” Midnight cut in, “As much as it pains me to agree, Overkill is right. He has to die. That’s the way of life sometimes.”

“I can’t watch this.” Tick’s tone was forelorned and Dot made a protesting noise in her throat. 

He might not want to watch, but she sure as hell did. 

“Leave her, Tick.” Overkill ordered, “Go wait outside.”

Tick looked around for a minute and began to lower her to the floor when Frank’s voice piped up. “I’ll take her.”

Dot nodded and Tick passed her off gently if a little reluctantly; her bones had mostly healed so it didn’t hurt nearly as much as she thought it would. 

“Are you coming, Arthur?” Tick asked softly, stopping in front of him.

Her brother slowly shook his head back and forth, his eyes bright. “I need to stay, Tick. I need the closure.” 

Tick brought his blue hand to Arthur’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze and a sad smile before he hopped off the stage, his retreating footsteps echoing until there was nothing but quiet.

The Terror had shifted his attention to Lint and was glaring at her. “Still can’t pull the trigger yourself?” He demanded.

When she said nothing, he scoffed. “Here I thought you were evil incarnate but all you are is a coward.” He spit at her in disgust.

She strode over to him and stared down at him. “Fuck you, Robert.” Lint replied in an even voice, “See you in hell.”

“You done?” Overkill asked.

“Yeah.” Lint gave him a nod.

“Good.” 

Then in a blur, the blades moved, and The Terror’s head rolled off his body. Blood splattered both Overkill and Lint’s legs but neither moved. Dot was surprised to see the other woman’s eye wet with unshed tears. 

Sheathing his swords, Overkill looked over his shoulder and inclined his head at Midnight. “Your turn, mutt.” 

“My pleasure.” Midnight moved closer, sat down, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Then the body burst into a spectacular array of flames. As she watched the fire begin to incinerate the body formerly known as The Terror, Overkill made his way towards her and her heart leapt. 

“Give her to me.” 

Frank wordlessly passed her over and tears stung at the corners of her eyes at the sheer relief she felt being in his arms. 

“I got you.” He said softly, “Are you ready to go home?”

She nodded.

“Go.” Lint’s voice caught her ears, “We’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay too.” Midnight added, something in his voice letting them know it was because he didn’t trust Lint to be alone.

“Fine.” Overkill turned towards Arthur and Steve, who had put away the cannon and buttoned his shirt, “Let’s go.” 

Outside, the sun was shining and after being in that shitty theater for days, it stung her eyes worse than the tears. The Tick stood at the edge of the parking lot and when he saw them, bounded over and caught Arthur up in his arms, squeezing tight. 

The empty parking lot in front of her shimmered and she was shocked to see Dangerboat sitting there. Her eyes flicked over to Steve, who smiled at her and with a snap of his fingers, opened the door.

“I made a few upgrades.” He chuckled, then clapped his hands together, “Now let’s get you into the med bay.”

Off her raised eyebrow, Overkill answered her as they moved inside. “It’s just Dangertable.”

“Lay on your back and I’ll begin scanning.” Steve instructed as he moved up into the cock pit and settled into the seat before becoming perfectly—and eerily—still.

Overkill placed her on the table and cut the ropes off her arms and legs. She stretched out, the cold pressed of glass against her back made her shiver, and distinctly remember that The Terror had stripped her to her sports bra and boy shorts. 

“No injuries found.” Steve’s voice came above and the camera above the table moved back and forth, “Just the wire keeping her mouth shut.”

“But when you hit the stage...” Arthur’s voice was soft, “I heard your bones break...”

Until the wire was gone, she couldn’t offer him an answer. Though, when it was off, she wasn’t sure she could put into words that while there had been pain, The Terror had done worse things that she had healed from. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to talk about it with him. 

Overkill pulled out a pair of scissors from a med kit and loomed over her. 

“Do you want me to cut them off?” He asked carefully.

She nodded and he went to work with a steady hand, snipping each wire before pulling each piece out are carefully as he could. His cybernetic eyes blinked and his thumb hovered just above her lips.

“You’re already healed.” He told her.

Though she was free, Dot could still feel like there was an invisible bond keeping her lips closed. She sat up, the truth settling on her heart. She wanted to cry but if she did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“We’ll be home in fifteen minutes.” Steve’s voice was coming from the speakers again and not from the android at the controls. 

Dot looked out the windshield and it dawned on her that they weren’t on the ground or water, they were in the air. There was nothing but beautiful blue sky with soft wisps of clouds as far as the eye could see.

“You’re flying?” She blurted, her voice thick and scratchy from being unused.

“It was the fastest way to get to you.” He answered simply, “You’re part of my family, Dot...you are worth pushing past my fears.”

She made a soft noise, not trusting her voice, and stroked the surface of Dangertable affectionately. Arthur moved around the edge until he was in front of her and wrapped a blanket around her then caught her in a tight hug. 

He rested his face against her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his back, holding him tight as he began to sob quietly. She closed her eyes and murmured words of comfort until he stopped.

Sniffling, Arthur straightened and gave her a watery smile. “I love you.”

Her throat felt impossibly tight and she swallowed, trying to get some relief. “I love you too. I’m okay.”

She was lying. A quick glance to Overkill made her realize he _knew_ she lying. But he didn’t call her on it. 

Steve landed back at the dock, returning to a sea craft. A car idled for them as they got out of Dangerboat. The all managed to pile in, albeit, overstuffed. She recognized Antonio as the driver and felt some of the tension that tightened her spine ease. He was used to their weirdness by now and today, they were a sight.

He took the fastest route and they were trudging up the steps of her apartment within another fifteen minutes. Dot didn’t have her keys and it wasn’t a problem as Overkill nonchalantly picked the lock and let them inside.

“I need to shower.” Dot croaked and made a beeline for her bedroom.

“We’ll go get some food.” Arthur called after her.

She heard Overkill acknowledge her brother’s statement and said something back to him but she didn’t catch what. Dot’s attention was on her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked normal. Like she just rolled out of bed instead of suffering three days’ worth of torture at the hands of her father’s killer. Her gaze shifted when she saw Overkill enter the room and close the door behind him.

“What do you need?” His voice was quiet and she turned to face him.

“Nothing.” The denial came easy, came quick. She was used to taking care of herself.

“Bullshit.” He growled, “How can I help you?”

Inside her chest, something shattered. She wasn’t used to having anyone take care of her. She was the caretaker, not the other way around. She didn’t need help…she didn’t…need…

She was strong enough to get through this and take care of those who depended on her. But as easy as the denial had come, so did the knowledge of what she needed. What she really needed.

A nice, long cry in the shower. And Overkill’s arms around her.

Air left her lungs in a sharp hiccup-y noise. “S-stay. With me?” She asked, looking up into his eyes.

He acknowledged her with a small nod and began to strip. There was nothing sexy or titillating about the way he undressed; he was just nude. Then he approached her and reached for the blanket. She let him pull it from her shoulders and spread it out on the floor. Silently, she lifted her arms and he maneuvered the sports bra up and off her, tossing it on top of the blanket. Then he knelt down and skimmed her boy shorts down. After she stepped out of them, they joined her bra.

Overkill didn’t rise right away, instead he rested his forehead against her abdomen and sighed softly. She threaded her fingers into his dark hair and held him there, letting her eyes drift shut. The somber atmosphere of the room removed any sexy connotations and left the simple stark comfort of skin on skin contact.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. She didn’t care. She soaked up the comfort of his touch against her.

After a while, he rose up to his feet and grabbed his clothes, dumping them onto the blanket with hers before he started up the shower.Once it was ready, he offered her a hand and she stepped inside, immediately taking the spot under the spray.

The water was perfectly warm and rinsed away the grime that coated her skin. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head up, concentrating on that warm, soothing feeling. Then she turned and faced Overkill and tried to put into words exactly what she needed. But what came out was a sob. The noise was loud and echoed off the tile, startling her with how broken it sounded.

His arms were around her instantly and she moved up onto the balls of her feel, burying her face in the side of his neck.

“I’ve got you.” He murmured, “I’m never letting you go. Whatever you need to do. I’m here.”

Dot didn’t know how much she needed to hear those words until he uttered them and she let herself fall, let herself break, and sobbed until there were no tears left.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, letting out a shuddering breath as she stepped back under the water, rinsing away the evidence of her tears. Her body was spent, rung out, and ready to sleep for a million years.

They washed hurriedly before the water turned cold and got out of the shower. He wrapped her in a fluffy towel and she moved into her bedroom, sinking down to sit on the edge of her bed. Overkill moved around her room and pulled out his duffle bag that he had stashed in the corner when he and Steve roomed with her. He dressed in all black, his usual style, but with a t-shirt and sweat pants.

Slowly, she rose and finished drying her body before she pulled on a clean pair of undies and a light bra, baggy old t-shirt and equally baggy sweat pants. When they moved back out into the living room, Dot’s throat tightened at the sight. Arthur, Steve, and Tick had turned the couch into a nest of blankets and pillows. Her favorite food was on the coffee table and when she sunk down onto the couch beside Arthur, discovered her favorite childhood comfort movie was queued up on the TV screen.

They were all taking care of her and it turned out she still had a few tears left in her.

Arthur’s hand found hers and gave her a squeeze, wordlessly starting the movie. Overkill sat on her other side and stretched his arm along the top of the couch.

“Thank you.” Dot said softly as the black and white movie played, “All of you.”

Arthur grabbed Styrofoam container from the table and offered Dot the fried dumplings inside. She plucked on up with her fingers and popped it into her mouth, savoring the first taste of food in days and the comfort of her family while on the screen, Judy Garland, sang _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_.


End file.
